


Seven-Pointed Flame

by supernoodle



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Mentions of Slavery, Mentors, Past Slavery, Ravagers - Freeform, Surly 20s Yondu, Tired Parent Stakar, Young Yondu Udonta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 21:45:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12284982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernoodle/pseuds/supernoodle
Summary: Before Yondu the exiled Ravager captain, there was Yondu the newly-freed 20-something-year-old. Between those two, there's Stakar Ogord.





	Seven-Pointed Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Some observant soul on Tumblr noted that there were seven points on the Ravager flame badge, and that Stakar's team + Yondu = 7. Add that to what was already bouncing around in my head, and we get this!

Martinex was trying to hide his smile, but Aleta was outright sniggering.

Stakar looked down at the pile of defiant Centaurian at his feet and sighed. Yondu's shoulders were hunched, but he wasn't letting go of the necklace either.

“That was an interesting way of _handling_ things,” Stakar said.

Yondu slouched even further. 

“They didn't _catch_ me,” he muttered.

Stakar snorted and Aleta cackled behind him, Martinex's creaky chuckle underneath. Yondu turned almost navy and crossed his arms over his stomach.

“No,” Stakar agreed, looking up at the smoking hole in the side of the Xandarian noble's mansion. “No, they did not.”  
__

“We should make him a captain!” Aleta shouted over the wind.

“That boy is going to kill himself – _unf_ – long before he makes captain!” Stakar shouted back, cranking the joystick almost horizontal. The ship screeched around them and something cracked, but they swung around the rock formation. Two of the necrocraft wiped out in an orange explosion.

“He's got a chance, though, right?” Aleta stuck her pistol through a hole shredded near her head and nailed another necrocraft. “If he survives long enough.”

“He makes it to twenty-five, I'll pin a badge on him myself,” Stakar vowed.  
__

“When was the last time you slept?”

Yondu looked up at him – more or less, his eyes seemed to be having trouble focusing. The cup in his hand was shaking, but he grinned and stabbed it at the schematics projected in front of him.

“Found us a job, boss,” he said, voice raspy like he'd scoured his vocal cords with sand, and tossed back the dregs of his drink.

Stakar sniffed and smelled caf, or its bitter, triple-strong cousin that Charlie liked to brew. That couldn't be healthy.

“Alright, I think it's time to call it a day,” he said, and pulled the cup from Yondu's hand.

“Hey!”  
__

“Who's that?”

Stakar looked up and resisted the urge to pull Yondu back in the window by the tail of his coat. Aleta smirked at him from the passenger seat, but just turned to see what had caught their rescuee's attention this time.

“On the billboard? That's Irani Rael. She's running to become Nova Prime.”

“What's runnin' gotta do with Nova?”

“It means she's trying to collect votes.”

“Why don't she just kill the old Nova Prime?”

“Because there's a law against it.”

“Pshaw, tha's stupid. What's that?”

“That's an ad for Beasties, a snack.”

“I thou'chu said you don' eat folk.”

“We don't. It's just a drawing.”

“Huh. What's _that_?”  
__

Martinex's face wasn't really built to convey much emotion, but Stakar saw the distress in his frame when he walked up to the captain's chair.

“What is it?”

Martinex paused for a moment, looking out at the stars. Then he turned to Stakar and handed over a padd, the screen full of dense text. Stakar skimmed it, didn't see any clues about the problem, and looked back at his first mate.

“Doc had to figure out our rescue's species to treat him,” Martinex said. He tapped on the heading at the top of the screen. “He's Centaurian.”

Stakar frowned and looked more closely at the writing – a page from a book on rare species. “Centaurian – wait, from Beta Centauri? They don't even have ships!”

Martinex shrugged. “Don't need them if the buyers come to you.”

Stakar gave him a sharp look.

“Says he doesn't remember anything but the Kree,” Martinex added.

Stakar ground his teeth and sent the book to himself. Returning the boy to his home was out of the question, then. He handed the padd back to Martinex and folded his hands over his stomach.

“We'll be staying away from Knowhere,” he said. “Wouldn't want Tivan getting ideas. Keep me updated on the kid's progress, lemme know when he's ready for visitors.”  
__

He made Martinex ask for the kid's badge, because even after years of freedom Yondu sometimes still looked at him like he was waiting to be kicked out or slapped in chains again. Stakar couldn't risk the misunderstanding, even for this level of payoff.

Even that much of a precaution almost wasn't enough. Yondu approached him during one of the rare times Stakar ate with the crew, the chaos of the mess a surer shield than a soundproof room. Yondu, stirring the brownish glop on his plate with his fork, mentioned that he was planning on scouting out a new target soon, and that he'd have a hard time getting back on the ship without his badge.

Stakar told him to wait a few days and pretended not to notice how he looked nauseous for the space of a blink, then shoved his food at the Ravager across the table and walked away.

Stakar told Krugarr to hurry up, and at the start of the next day-shift he sought the kid out.

“What's that?” Yondu asked, eying the badge in Stakar's hand.

“I had Krugarr do some modifications to the design,” he said, turning the flame over and over so its sheen caught the light and flickered. Then he held it out, flat on his palm. “Thought it was time for a new look,” and he tapped the new badge on his own chest with his other hand.

Yondu took it after a moment, watching Stakar like he was waiting for him to snatch it back, laugh, declare everything was a joke and his time was up. Stakar just met his gaze until Yondu broke it to examine the badge in his hand, running his fingers over the front and edges and the points of the flame. That was when he looked up, uncertainty in his posture even though his face was almost blank.

“There's seven points here,” he said, forefinger catching on them.

Stakar nodded and shrugged like it was obvious, hardly worth mentioning.

“Can't have six points for seven captains, can we?” 

Yondu didn't even try to hide that he was staring. “Seven captains,” he said, voice flat.

Stakar nodded again. “'Leta figured it was about time.”

Yondu raised an eyebrow, silent.

“Martinex got impatient.”

He was still staring.

Stakar sighed. “You've earned it, kid, now pin it on.”

Yondu's mouth twitched, almost a grin, even as he muttered “not a kid” and slapped the badge on his chest, then pounded it in the Ravager salute.

Stakar saluted back.


End file.
